My sister, Melissa Lynch, texted me the other morning to tell me how annoying it is to her that I seem to apologize for my illustrations. I texted back, asking why this watercolor, which I thought was actually titled,”Boys on the Beach,” wasn’t on my site. Texts can be so easily misinterpreted, so, after a couple of confused back-and-forths, I called her.
The upshot is this: I’m a fricking genius and my stuff is incredible.
So, no more apologizing.
However, it should be quite obvious why I’m intimidated by my sister’s work. The watercolor is a commissioned work, done for a woman who lost one of her four sons. Though Melissa criticized what I thought was merely me candidly explaining my process, she did say, in reference to the piece, that she wanted to add a hint of the (stuck for a word here, don’t want to say ‘mystical’ or ‘divine,’ as they are words too easily pushed in one direction or another)… mysterious.
And she, of course, succeeded. We discussed how fear plays into art, how we each strive to replicate what we see in our minds. “Blah, blah, blah” you can quite rightly say, “it’s like poets pathetically pontificating.” No, don’t say that.
Did I say ‘intimidated?’ I meant ‘inspired.’ It’s just that my medium, and my muse, and my, um, choice of subject matter… what I go for is, what I’m striving to attain is… I’ll stop. Okay, geniusness. It’s just that… it’s just that I know better. Not apologizing, however. Thanks again, Melissa.